Raven's Stand: Darklands: The Raven's Calling, #5

By Scott E. Douglas

An Iron Age Fantasy with heart.

 

What is your concern is there's a dark path calling you. It's one you'll resist, in fact, you must resist. You cannot let it claim you.

 

Friesch is an Eastern Liuhtjan traveling west because… she doesn't know. All she knows is something is calling her, so she travels west. Evarnius is a hunter and an axe warrior traveling west with her because she saved his life, and maybe likes her, a little.

 

They find their way to Greantalia, to the little settlement where Ambial and her man have started building their home with their baby, Raithe, among Iskvald's bandits. They're there when the decision is made for an army to be sent to Grimulsvoton to confront the Eastern Council about the massacres that occurred the previous summer.

 

It's a foolish decision, one with has no hope of succeeding. It's a decision that must be made. It's a plan that must succeed. It's a dark path that Friesch must walk with them if any are going to survive.

 

_____

So you know, there's some swearing, some violence and some reference to sex. It's not "Game of Thrones" level, but it's there. It's not graphic and it has to do with the story. Slavery is also a thing in this world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott E. Douglas
• Release date: May 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201478582

Book preview

1: Ughwilon

FRIESCH TRUDGED WEST beside a stream, toward whatever called her. Having seen a mere twenty winters, she was pale with hair so red it almost glowed. She wore a snow bjarndyn coat for warmth that made her nearly invisible among the snow-covered trees of the north country. It had saved her life more than once from ulfarrh; that and her abilities with the Otherness. As a Darklander, she was not as proficient at using it as the Lingen, but as a liuhtjan she was more capable than others of her race.

Something called her west in a dream, something tall with a long spear insisted she was needed.

An eostran ran to a tree fewer than fifty paces in front of her. She took a leather sling from her pack and found some stones. If there was one, there might be others, and if there were others, she might not go hungry again this night.

She placed a stone into the sling and moved slowly toward the tree. There was a hole beneath it. Should eostran be this far north? Didn’t they live further south, where the weather was warmer? There weren’t even eostran around her village. Her village was on Mikilgard, the big lands, and many miles east. Although south of the permanent snows, it was still too cold for eostran. Perhaps creatures were different on Greantalia. Much further west and she was going to come across the big sea. There would be nowhere else to go then, not without a boat. She’d heard about another big land off Greantalia. Perhaps that’s where she was—

Kaa!

A swartfugul landed in a tree and frightened an eostran from its hole. Friesch’s sling sent a rock at it with deadly precision. She had another rock in her sling and killed another eostran just as quickly. Another half dozen ran off. She let them go. She had dinner for the night and was grateful for that.

She fetched the creatures and tied them to a stick. She’d skin and clean them someplace away from their home and then find shelter where she could cook them. It would need to be among the trees. A fire in the open wasn’t a good idea around here. Neither was being on her own but that wasn’t her choice. The fates had decided and she... something felt wrong.

Kaa!

A swartfugul flew off and it was quiet.

There were more trees fewer than a hundred paces away. The wrongness twisted her gut, so she ran. Leaving footprints in the snow was also a bad idea, but she was too troubled to care. Once among the trees she had a chance to move without leaving obvious footprints but would still leave a trail for skilled hunters.

Behind her she heard the thunder of aihwass riding along the plain. She found a place to hide.

What the fuck is that! A man’s voice called.

The words were Arbanaish, the language of the Eastern Plainsmen. What were they doing on Greantalia?

One set of tracks, probably a trapper. We got no time to chase a single fucking trapper.

They rode off.

Friesch waited an hour before moving. Even then, she moved carefully through the trees. She didn’t expect that any would have remained to seek her, but she was always careful when there were Plainsmen.

She found a small grove near a big tree and gathered wood for a fire. Dry kindling wasn’t easy to find, but she managed. Dry wood was easier. There was a fallen tree near with more than enough dry branches.

Kindling in place, larger branches on top of it, she prepared to cook the eostran. Taking the small bodies of the dead animals, she closed her eyes and bowed her head in thanks to honour the creatures who gave their lives for her sustenance. The ritual complete, she skinned and gutted the carcasses, putting the entrails near the small pile of wood that would become her campfire. Next, she found sticks capable of holding the meat over the fire, so it could be roasted, then she cleaned the skins. That all complete, she sat and waited for Sauilin to finish her downward slide toward the eastern horizon. She needed the fire to keep the ulfarrh away but didn’t want its smoke to tell plainsmen where she was camped. Thiuhian would be dark except for the green campfires of the gods who lived on him. This was a comfort even though she wouldn’t see him.

She felt the Otherness while she waited. It was still. Everything was still. A gentle breeze shook the branches high in the trees, but the air was still in her little grove beside the big tree. She needed the fire. It would warm her, but more than that, it would mask her smell and warn ulfarrh to stay away.

Hoo!

She looked up and wondered what kind of ughwilon lived this far north. She covered the eostran meat with her pack.

The ughwilon landed next to the pile of wood and started eating the eostran entrails. Well, this was better than having ulfarrh coming around scavenging. It was unusual to see one like this, so close to a person. Even if it was hungry, it would normally swoop on the food and eat in a tree. Friesch supposed it was because of the amount of food. That or the bird was just fussy. It didn’t eat it all, instead it picked its way through the mess taking only those parts it wanted.

Friesch watched quietly while it ate. After some minutes it flew away. She went to start the fire so she could burn the rest of the entrails. As she did, she noticed something strange in the arrangement of the intestine.

It looked like eight runes. She knew that some of her people used the arrangement of intestines of a slain animal to help make important decisions. She always thought that somewhat foolish, but she’d never seen a bird arrange the intestines of an animal into runes before. She’d have been tempted to dismiss this as a coincidence if it wasn’t an ughwilon and the runes didn’t make a word. Blauthjan. The ancient word for conqueror.

The ughwilon hooted again.

Friesch looked up from the eostran and realised it was too late to hide. She saw nothing but the woods and heard nothing, but there was a presence and he’d seen her.

She stood and looked toward the little pile of sticks she hadn’t yet set alight.

If you have vegetable and a pot, you’re welcome to share eostran, she declared to the trees.

A tall man with dark hair and piercing green eyes stepped from behind one of the trees. He wore brown leathers, carried a long-handled axe, and had a small round shield slung on his back. How do you know I won’t just take your rabbits and leave you dead? he asked.

Because an ughwilon warned me you were coming. She smiled. See, she left your name in the eostran entrails.

The man glanced at the mess of intestines on the ground. I can’t read, he said.

It says Blauthjan, Friesch told him. It means conqueror.

I’m not Blauthjan, he said.

No. You’re Evarnius. But the name is still there.

If that’s the truth then that mess of guts should say wai-dedja.

You weren’t condemned, Friesch chided.

Wai-dedja means criminal, Evarnius said.

It means a man captured for a crime and condemned to death.

Then it’s accurate, isn’t it?

Does that mean I’ve caught you? Friesch smiled.

Do you think you can kill me?

Friesch shook her head. I can’t kill you, but I can feed you. Do you still have a pot in that pack of yours?

Evarnius offered a lop-sided smile.

Good, then we can boil the meat with some... she looked about. ...some herbs I suppose.

And some tamar, Evarnius unslung his pack. I only have one wooden bowl though. I lost the other one.

That’s okay. I still have bowls, and spoons. We can share a fire together, and a meal together, and you can tell me why an ughwilon believes you’re a conqueror.

And you can tell me why you won’t hide that red and green tunic beneath the bjarndyn fur you’re wearing. It makes you a target for slavers and rapists.

I wear a red and green tunic because I wear the red and green.

I’ve never enslaved a liuhtjan before.

You’ve neither enslaved nor raped anyone, Friesch said. You don’t have that on your saival. You’ve killed, with fair reason, and you’ve stolen... no you haven’t. You’ve taken what was yours and lost it again.

Evarnius sat. You claim to know too much. You don’t know me, liuhtjan.

Then why’d you follow me?

You’re a target for slavers and rapists. He shrugged. I can’t let it be easy for them.

So that’s why you carry that axe? To make things hard for rapist slavers? I thought you didn’t like the long-handled axes.

Slavers, Evarnius said. Rapists make things hard for themselves. He looked at his axe. It’s still more useful than a sword. I can use it to fetch more firewood than that miserable pile you have there.

Too much will warn the riders we’re here.

You saw them? Evarnius sat.

Some hours past. They’ve gone west.

And which way are you going?

West.

Following them? He raised his eyebrows.

Friesch shook her head. They’re heading northwards. I’m heading west.

How do you know where they’re heading?

Friesch shrugged.

They’ll not be slavers, Evarnius told her.

They looked like they’re from the plains. Even spoke Arbanaish. Friesch moved her pack off the skinned eostran. They capture slaves occasionally on the big lands and sell them to Nauthran slavers.

And you thought you’d be safe here?

No, Friesch smiled. Of course not, but something calls me. Now tell me, Evarnius the condemned conquering criminal, which way are you running?

I’m running with you, little sister.

I’m glad, she smiled.

Evarnius nodded. Now tell me, where are we?

If you don’t know then we’re both lost. She crossed her arms. If you’re as lost as me, then how did you find me?

I heard the story of a liuhtjan narrowly escaping Nauthran slavers between Kairestral and Maelstrarn.

And you thought it was me?

It was obvious it was you. They spoke of your hair and that snow bjarndyn coat.

So, you followed me?

I had a mind to visit Greantalia, I heard where the pale girl wearing the dead bjarndyn went.

You couldn’t bear to think of me becoming someone else’s slave?

I’m not here to argue. Evarnius stood.

You’re here to eat and I’m glad you are. Fill your pot with snow before Sauilin is fully set and I’ll ready the eostran for the pot.

You won’t roast them?

I don’t like dried tamar. She smiled at him.

FRIESCH SLEPT WELL for the first time in some nights. Though Evarnius’s breathing was somewhat loud, and annoying, it was also a comfort.

They woke as Sauilin began to brighten the western sky and prepared their packs for the next day’s travel. Neither of them had food for first-meal nor anything to say to each other so they just packed and started walking.

Once out of the trees Friesch turned to the west.

If you don’t know where you are, how do you know which way to go? Evarnius asked.

You should know already, Friesch answered him as she strode forward.

Your seven-foot-tall man with the ten-foot-tall spear?

And the sense he left with me to find my way.

An ughwilon hooted in the distance.

I suppose that has something to say to you? Evarnius shook his head.

She might be the one who warned me of your coming. Friesch strode ahead.

Well why didn’t you cross the river and follow the path? Evarnius quickened his pace to catch up with her.

Because I didn’t.

"Because it felt right?"

Friesch stopped. "Look, if you only want to argue you’re free to go whichever other way you want. I don’t know why you’re following me anyway."

Neither do I, Evarnius said.

"Except you’ve got nowhere better to go?"

I stopped you from being taken by plainsmen back on the big lands.

And that means you’ve got an obligation to protect me? Friesch put her hands on her hips.

It’s the other way around where I’m from, and no. I already said I release you from it.

Then what’re you doing then?

He shook his head. I don’t know. Paternal I guess.

Paternal? You’re nowhere near old enough to be my father.

Can’t think of any other reason why I like you, except...

Except what?

Except I have some sickness that makes me enjoy being sorely aggravated.

She pursed her lips and breathed deeply.

Let’s stop this bickering, Evarnius said. There’s a settlement near here. Let’s find it and see if whatever the fuck you’re looking for is there.

Settlement? Friesch was confused.

Evarnius pointed ahead. See how many trees are cut down there? That’s not trappers cutting firewood. That’s someone cutting timber for a home.

Those horsemen yesterday—

Horsemen? Evarnius smiled. You spent too much time in the empire.

"Do you think the aihwass mounted warriors yesterday might have raided them?"

I think we should find out.

VEERING NORTH THEY came to a river which they followed to the settlement they sought. It was a little more than just a settlement, but Friesch wasn’t sure what it was. It was clearly unfinished with a long stone foundation laid from the river running south-west through the trees. She could see a small collection of mud-brick huts on the side of a bend in the river. Upstream, on the other side of the river were what looked like stone buildings being made. An ughwilon swooped them and flew toward the river, landing in a tree thirty paces away.

A baby cried.

Friesch looked at Evarnius.

He shrugged.

Shoo! a woman’s voice joined the voice of the child.

Evarnius started toward the voices but Friesch shook her head and raised her eyebrows at him. He shook his head to forbid her going to the voices. She strode to the river. A blonde woman sat beside the water nursing what looked like a newborn. She jumped when she saw Friesch.

I’m not here to hurt you, Friesch said.

The woman muttered something unintelligible.

Speak you Otherlander? Friesch said in her best Laish.

Little things of the Otherlanders I know, the woman said.

I Friesch am called.

My name is Evarnius and I’m a friend of the liuhtjan here, Evarnius said using Strarailine, the language of the Northern Darklanders.

You speak Liugan-wistehulms? the woman asked.

No, Evarnius said. It is the language where I am from, and it is similar to your western island language.

Very it must be then, the woman said.

I’m sorry to have startled you, Friesch said in Strarailine.

Startled? the woman asked.

Frightened? Friesch said. We were... she looked around.

What my young companion doesn’t want to say is she was following an ughwilon and is now lost. She believed the ughwilon that startled, frightened you, was the one who—

Of course, the woman said. It’s you. She smiled and stood. This is Raithe. She held the baby toward Friesch not noticing that her breast was exposed.

Friesch took the baby with some trepidation.

I’m Ambial. The woman covered her exposed breast. Mikiansarg is fetching some bows from the Vaerlings but he’ll be along in a few... she stopped and shook her head. Of course, we’ve just met. You don’t know what I’m talking about, but Raithe knows you and...

Friesch looked at the baby who was rubbing his face against the white fur of her coat.

You won’t understand, the woman Ambial said. Your name is Friesch. She looked at Evarnius. I’m sorry I don’t remember your name, it was... our acquaintance was cut short. It was Ever-something though, wasn’t it?

It’s Evarnius, he said.

Ambial smiled. I’m so pleased to see you both.

The baby started fussing again, so Friesch handed him back to his mother.

I don’t know what to do, Ambial said. I think his little tummy is turning back.

Upset tummy? Friesch asked.

Yes. I need to recover being used to your strange saying ways again.

Have you tried uphramire? Friesch asked. There’s some over there.

I use it to season roast bairas, Ambial said.

No, I mean for the child’s upset tummy.

He’s only some days old, Ambial said. He won’t be able to eat it for some time.

No, Friesch went to a clump of weed beneath a nearby shrub and took a handful of the leaves. You eat it, then feed him, as you were, after the herb has had time to fuse in your body. Here. She handed Ambial the leaves.

Ambial took them carefully.

Evarnius, give her some water from your skin once she’s eaten them.

I don’t remember... Ambial shrugged and stuffed the leaves in her mouth.

Evarnius helped her drink from his waterskin.

Ambial screwed her face. Bitter, she said.

I know, Friesch said. Sit for a while and tell me what this place is.

Ambial and Friesch sat. Evarnius stood nearby.

Won’t you sit? Ambial asked him.

There were plainsmen here yesterday, Evarnius said warily.

Iskvald’s men dealt with them, Ambial said nonchalantly.

Dealt with them?

Drove them off and killed them.

There may be more, or there may be bandits.

Oh, there are bandits, Ambial said. Bandits that are good. Iskvald leads and protects. They build Mikiansarg’s... she looked about, ...thing. She waved to the stone buildings up the river.

How do you know us? Friesch asked. Did something tell you about us from the Otherness?

Something like that, Ambial said. I... She shook her head. I’ll explain somewhere else, over a meal and some liethus. She looked at Evarnius. I’ll have vernarch for you which you can share with my bond when he returns.

Liethus? Vernarch? Friesch asked.

Otherlanders call them wine and beer. Ambial looked at Evarnius again. We have an Ulfling living with us who taught me beer brewing. You will like.

The baby started fretting again. Ambial put him on her breast, and he started sucking.

It’s early for the leaves to have effect, Friesch said.

He’s hungry and so he drinks.

So he does. Friesch looked at the child who at that time seemed content.

You will stay, we will eat, and we will talk, Ambial said. He’s so cute. She looked at the child against her. I forgot how cute he was.

Ambial! Another blonde woman strode toward them from the direction of the huts. Kriearth looks for you and Iskvald... She looked at Friesch. Hello?

Hello, Friesch said.

This is Eshandrial, Ambial said. Unsanctioned bond of the leader of the bandits I told you of, and a dear friend and healer. She glanced to Friesch and Evarnius. These two new friends will stay before helping us. Tell Iskvald they’ll need a hut near us.

2: Epistameu

IT WAS STRANGE TO BE in the Amarthoul stronghold after so many seasons. It was where Sharvamir grew up, before he was sent to train as a Runier. It was where he learned the craft of sword smithing and where he received his commission to go to Greantalia and find the fairweitjan curse. He found it, was recognised as a fairweitjan, and didn’t return to the stronghold. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he learned that the woman who walked into the empty antechamber in the stronghold’s citadel had bonded.

You’re as handsome as I remember you, the woman said formally. She was below average height with above average beauty. Even the flecks of grey in her long yellow hair added to her allure as did the wrinkles about her deep blue eyes.

Epistameu Sharvamir let his gaze wander over the fine blue robe she wore so well. You’re more beautiful than I remember.

Always the charmer? she asked.

You know I wasn’t.

Then what happened to change that?

Nothing, Sharvamir said.

You were always so blunt, so honest.

I’m being bluntly honest now. He smiled.

She walked to a window on the far side of the antechamber and looked out at the valley below. They still close these shutters of a night-time, for fear that our stronghold here might be seen from below. It reminds me of everything about this place. Everything is hidden, unseen. Even when it all seems open and nothing can be hidden, it’s all concealed, in plain sight.

I’d heard you’d bonded, Sharvamir said.

You weren’t going to return.

Who told you that?

She turned and looked at him with those deep blue eyes. You did, when you left. And now look at you. You’ve become a fairweitjan, a Runier and a smith.

Smith was the choice of my birth, fairweitjan was the choice of... Sharvamir shook his head. Only Runier was my choice, but even then, it was up to the drawing.

My father influenced that, Epistameu said. He didn’t want you around me.

I didn’t know.

You mean you didn’t notice the way he looked when we were together?

I didn’t know he influenced the drawing.

Your name was in the pouch five times. I don’t know what he would have done if it had been drawn more than once.

And if it was drawn five times? Sharvamir chuckled.

Epistameu smiled at him. You laugh now?

I have a family.

You’ve bonded?

No, Sharvamir said softly.

Neither am I, Epistameu said.

Was I given wrong information about you bonding?

He died, six winters ago.

How?

Wasted. she smiled sadly. He felt it coming, spoke with our children, set me in a house in a good part of the city. She sniffed. He was nearly ten summers younger than me. It wasn’t meant to happen.

It never is.

Cietarch. It was his rune sign. He became a Runier. You are Larngamair, one rune above the Aldeven’s rune and you outlived him sixteen winters. You are more blessed than he was.

He was blessed with a beautiful bond.

There you are, charming again. Tell me about that family?

I have an apprentice who is bonded to the daughter of a smith and I have a hut among the collection of huts where this family lives.

Then what brings you here, after all these seasons?

Grave things have happened to the Vaerlingen on Greantalia, things that may befall the Blutlingen. I’ve come with the son of the Regent and the daughter of a sister to the Queen of the Lilthlings. Sharvamir took a deep breath. I’m also here because my name has been dishonoured so I sought a formal hearing.

How do you know your name has been dishonoured?

Because the Regent’s son was sent to kill me because of the accusations.

I thought it was Rundismir sent to Greantalia, not Gallmir.

It is Rundismir.

Then perhaps the stories of him with the Lilthling woman have some truth. He’s too single-minded to have allowed you to live.

Some things can get past even the determined.

Well, it must’ve been something big.

It is. Sharvamir glanced to the door, then back to Epistameu and shook his head. Gods above it’s good to see you. Now, tell me why you’ve been sent to see me.

You don’t trust that I came to see an old friend I haven’t seen for... she shook her head, ...nearly thirty winters?

I’m about to stand before the council, and the regent. Yes, I trust. But I trust that there’s a good reason for seeing my old friend.

Stirrings in the Otherness surrounded your arrival, something unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

Something Lingen that we, of all the Lingen, should be comfortable with.

You have the smell of a skosil about you.

A powerful one. One that has killed a Maurthrja and one who remains on Greantalia. Yes, we all have his smell on us, but the council is safe from him.

That’s not what the council is concerned about. She turned to look out the window again.

They don’t want to be surprised. Sharvamir went to her, stopping a pace behind her.

What shocks did you bring with you, for the council that is.

Grimulsvoton has declared war on the Vaerlingen. I believe it is because they fear the emergence of another Lingen.

You can’t be sure of this.

No, but I can be sure that... there were terrible things done this past season. Things young Rundismir also discovered as well as things the Lilthling warriors discovered. Tell the regent to prepare for many shocking surprises. Tell him he will hear of the fyligya named Fenrian and Tola and perhaps even Viltarn himself. Tell him he will hear of massacres and anawairthjan and an airzithajan and of unlikely heroes chosen by the ga-rehdan who I believe have not yet fulfilled their calling.

That’s a lot to be surprised about. I’ll warn him.

The most shocking surprise for him will be from his son.

The Lilthling woman?

Sharvamir shook his head. A Vaerling woman.

Epistameu shrugged. His younger brother can fulfil the bond duty if he’s needed.

She’s half Darklander.

Epistameu’s mouth fell open. I’ll warn the boy’s mother, she said weakly.

He’s not a boy.

He is if he thinks he can... Has he used her?

He couldn’t, Sharvamir said. His feelings are too deep.

You’re sure?

I was there when their saivals knitted. I felt its strength.

So, it’s not natural?

No, Sharvamir said. "It was like when we first met."

It’s a tragedy then. I’ll go see the regent and his bond before the council convenes. She ran her hand down his face. Gods below it’s good to see you again.

THE COUNCIL MET INSIDE a room that was too big to be comfortable. It had to be uncomfortable. It had to accommodate the members of the Stronghold’s court. Sharvamir couldn’t imagine why anyone would want that mob of treacherous bastards comfortable. It wasn’t full though. Most knew this would be a mere formality, an old Runier wanting exoneration from perceived wrong-doing. Even if an execution was warranted, it wouldn’t be performed at the hearing. There was still nearly a hundred in the room.

Sharvamir made his way through the crowd with Epistameu.